


Barley Mother Letters

by DarkPastels



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-10-27 18:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPastels/pseuds/DarkPastels
Summary: Since Persephone left home to take up her place in the Underworld, she writes back to her mother. As years have passed, Demeter found comfort in these correspondents. Only these recent letters have brought news she'd never imagined to happen.





	1. The anger of Autumn beginning

> _ October 1st _
> 
> _ Dearest Darling Daughter, _
> 
> _ I pray this letter finds you fitter than when you left. You left in quite a hurry and rather pale. _
> 
> _ Your brash lie of ‘I’m fine_’ ,_ hardly appreciative given the circumstances. _
> 
> _ Despite nearly twenty years since your marriage, the first month leaves me aching for company. I've taken your suggestion and started recording lectures for the students of agriculture, but I miss our conversations. The market planner assured me of your idea of barley cake pops and flavored popped barley. Next spring_,we_ plan for sampling trials and ideas for flavors. Obviously fruit and nuts are preferable the health-conscious consumer. Do keep the flavors simple and reasonable_,that_ god-awful spicy taco remains embedded in my memories._
> 
> _ In regards to the box you mentioned in your last letter, I had not found it. _
> 
> _Perhaps misplaced by the nymphs. All is possible. Remind Hades that if he insists on being unseen, he should be aware of where he hides. He stomped my poor basil and rosemary and his dog left my poor rosebush unsightly. _
> 
> _I bid you well, my dearest._
> 
> _~Mother._

As the goddess sits at her desk. The moon shining through the window as Demeter takes her fountain pen to the pages. Her fingers stiffened and the nib almost breaking under the pressure. Within this one of many tomes, the old mother writes her thoughts.

> _ Capricornus to Pegasus_
> 
> I wish I did not have to lie to my daughter. Yet, I dare not open that box, I refuse to entertain my anxiety. I've known of it when it began. That sickly sweet and heavy smell earlier this year with Kore, I've never seen so many bright, spring blooms. And Midsummr came and Hades departed the following dawn with Kore remaining with more than kisses but no more smell. The summer brought plenty of fruit and a faint shadow,following Kore everywhere. It haunts me with a promise as I look at Kore with tears of pain and anger. The gall of the fates to curse me with irony, my suffering of loss so entertaining. I wish for the things within that box may rot. Its contents assure me of an arrival I wish would never come. I remain willfully oblivious to it. _  
_


	2. October Chills

> _October 12th_
> 
> _Dearest Darling Daughter,_
> 
> _Pardon the light smears. The crisp chill have not bode well for my trembling hands. I am sad to say I've wasted paper for this reply. I resorted to chalk to dry the ink, as I refuse to heat the entire house for just myself. Smudgy ink and pride of penmanship aside, your copy of The Daily Oracle and Weekly Nark arrived. Their articles are terribly written. Thought you to be descerning for the choice of literature. Shall I sent them to you?_
> 
> _Sadly the box has yet to appear, in my search of your room, I've uncovered a few items. Your old metals and throphies, I am sad to say are terribly dented and dusty. Some old toys, school books, and several holey and shrunken Barley Mother shirts. How appauled I was to find a sketchbook from your early teens. I hope your art and choice of inspiration have matured. _
> 
> _In your rush, you have failed to strip your bed and your floor cluttered with dirty clothes. Be courteous of your mother when concidering your martial duites. The younger nymphs will find every reason to giggle, regardless if its my daughter. I will include 'lost and found' item in your box._
> 
> _I heard that as of last week, marks the decade your husbands of sobriety. Truely dear,I applaud your efforts, deserving more than a crown. Sadly, I remain doubtful. Centuries of his drunken antics have yet to be erased with a decade sober. _
> 
> _Odd question about nausia, I do not recall the morning sickness with you. Psyche would do best with her mortal common sense then any advice from her mother in-law. I've held the stance,'A Healthy life for Healthy offspring', avoiding dairy and caffinated anything. Excerise, plenty of leafy greens, and avoid hot tubs are the best peices of advice. I found with you, that any advice from other goddesses to be lacking overall. _
> 
> _I bid you well,Kore. _
> 
> _~Mother._

Demeter sits at her desk, staring at the cream-colored box across the room. Wrapped in a yellow ribbon, its pale color contrasted the dark room. Its glaring shape now a detested sight. Insistent on this war of wills, She'd tried keeping busy with small tasks. Writing notes for her lectures, phone calls, planning meeings, and sorting through Kore's old things. Somehow the back of her mind would drift to the box and _that_ shadow. It lurks where the box is. Avoiding the room where she kept the box away, Demeter found peace in her business. Yet, that peace never stayed. Later that night, the goddess sat at her desk, by small light, she writes in her personal tome.

> Rising Pegasus
> 
> I hid the box thinking I could 'set it aside and go about my day'. Its a box. As the week goes on, I find my home haunted. A little figure, faint and somehow definate. Standing or sitting in rooms alone, staring at me. An errie little doll, blank eyes and expressionless. I ignore it. I keep busy and somehow either in the back of my head or as I walk through my farrowed fields. I am followed. Its only me who sees it. Therefore, I can simply move about my day regardless. Do your worst, O' terrible spirit!


	3. Harvest Moon Wonderings

> _October 22nd  
_
> 
> _Dearest Kore,_
> 
> _My cellphone has been abuzzed with several nuiciance notifications from 'The Fatesbook', a most detestable site. Hardly anything social about it. Most of these 'postings' are pictures and 'jifs'. I happen to glanced at Hera's "fatesbook", what a terrible dress! Only Aphrodite could think pink leopard print to be becoming of a lady expecting. Shameful that Psyche had to suffice with a silk flower crown.  
_
> 
> _When did this become a trend?_ _ a 'gender reveal party', A baby's gender wasn't revealed until the birth! Perhaps I hold an antiquated view.The 'gifts' that Hera described, are hardly anything useful. A baby's needs are simple and indifferent. Brands names need not apply, toys are pointless in the first few months, and the maternity clothes are pointless. Unless she plans to have more children with those clothes. _
> 
> _Meeting Psyche, theres no doubt she'd be practical and raise smart children. Mortal women have a better head about this childraising. Knowing Zeus, he could stand to have better brains in that family. _
> 
> _I am told there will be a harvest moon this year, one of the more lovlier aspects of this cold season. I always liked the moon. Its shade calming, and brings about a sense of mystery. I remember as a child, I was told that Selene would paint the moon as a way of marking the time of year. This isn't true of course,but, fond memories all the same. I remember our walks during this time of year, albiet I'd had you bundled up, but I miss those walks.  
_
> 
> _I think this box of yours might be an illusion,dear. Check with your husband.  
_
> 
> _~Mother_

Meals alone are simple, yet somehow take the longest to make. A warm,savory scent eminates from her kitchen. Tomatoes and olives,garlic, olive oil, are cooked together for a stew, The older nymphs would visit Demeter for supper. Alas, tonight she dines alone. At the table, she stares at her reddish stew with feta crumbles with an errie assumption. Bothering her mind with the thought: She isn't alone.

There it was. _That_ shadow, now not so faint. She's noticed how definate it has become. Sitting at the other end of her table, its eyes still blank and lifeless. Demeter pushes away her nearly bowl.

"What do you want?"She asks

_It_ never answers. It just stares.

Taking her bowl and standing from her seat. Her cellphone chimes, in her fright drops bowl onto the table. Looking up again, she doesn't see the shadow. She stands trying to answer this annoying call.

"Hello? Oh! Hello Callegeia, I was having my supper before you called. Taking a walk? Thats nice. No, I'm alright."She hangs up quickly.

Slipping her phone into her pocket, she sighs. Her head turns when she glimpsed _IT. _It sat at her end of the table,playing with her bowl like a child. Smiling at her sweetly as it offered it back. Taking the bowl, Demeter drops it. It was very warm, full of food, and in looking up again, the shadow had disappeared. Demeter rushed out the room, grabbing a shawl, rushing out the door.

Passing several miles of her farrowed fields, Demeter stared and looked out pride, these fields were her pride and joy next to Persephone. However, she swore to have seen a little figure at the furthest limits of her view. It danced and swirled about the fields as it passed. Walking onto the fields, she marched towards it. As she got close. It disappeared. She blinked and scanned the area for the child she swore to have seen here. Returning to the road, she met with her old freind and her evening caller.

> Pegasus and Aquarius
> 
> This evening I took a walk. Along the way, I met with Callegia. During our walk, we joked and chatted, enjoying glow of the golden moon and the crisp air of the season. I inquired if she'd seen the dancing figure in my fields, we both shrugged it off as possibly a young Satyr or spirit. Afterwards, our conversations soured when she asked about grandchildren, specifically my enteraining the liklihood. I couldn't answer,as though I choked and She laughed! 'My hesitancy as a sign of age' she says and 'Given _his_ family-Why wouldn't happen?'. I left her in a furious huff, I did apologize before returning home. Passing the dining room, I realized I left in such a rush that I didn't washing up. I felt ashamed. In my cleaning up, I kept thinking: I ? A grandmother?', I never wanted Kore to marry let alone be keen for motherhood. Yet, my opinion towards marriage promtly ignored. Despite my respect and politeness, the jokes and remarks from Hera and the Nymphs leave me irate. Perhaps the blessing of Hades' occupasion is infertility. He's had several women with him before Kore, not one has he sired. I imagine this would continue with Kore.


	4. Waning October moon

> _October 30th_
> 
> _Kore,_
> 
> _In the mornings as I glance the frost across the landscape. Bundled in my housecoat, clutching the hot water-bottle,and cup of tea. How much I detest this season! I am amazed that you manage in that dreadful place with Hades. Kind as you are to offer a house, I wouldn't pay his prices just to stay warm. The cost of gas is an average of 25,000₯* per month! Its outrageous. I highly doubt your husband will discount the cost for me. I will burn my compost before that. _
> 
> _ I have heard, yes. The nymphs were a flutter about the latest Apollo incident. Ironically tragic. Death by spontaneous combustion and the infant survived! Truely dreadful! Leto should have her nose rubbed in her sons mess. What happens when you leave the childrearing to nymphs. How I laugh now at the woman! She felt that I was sacrificing too much for you._
> 
> _Unlikely,she'll acknowledge how wrong she was. _
> 
> _Chiron and Themis will arrive on Zeus's doorstep soon enough. Since it now involves an hemitheos (demigod) infant. On her Fatesbook, Hera uploaded a photo of a very pale Zeus, I would be lying if I didn't laugh. I pity the infant of course,born into such terrible circumstances. I do hope Chiron takes him on. The mortals never bode well with halfling children.  
_
> 
> _ Ever so grateful that you became a better example of motherhood done right.  _
> 
> _ I must hush and warm my hands. _
> 
> _ With much love, _
> 
> _ ~Mother _

Demeter shivered as she at her desk, bundled and cold-fingered. Hardly visiting other parts of the house. The hallow feeling felt constant. The unease in her stomach stifled her hunger, robbing her sleep and patience. She never leaves the house, the bitter weather a deterrent. The lack of social interaction furthers her feeling of isolation, she feels desperate for replies from Kore. Every morning, Demeter wakes to shutter from the cold floor. Rushing down the chairs to her routine of checking her mailbox.

Cursing the piles of advertisements, bills, and Kore's varying subscriptions.

_How could my daughter's taste become so crass?_

Accompanying her in the hours following was _that_ feeling.

That nagging whisper in her mind from the study. The white cubed box with the pale yellow ribbon on the top. The shadow in her mind.

"_It_ likely _is_ there." She thought, swallowing weakly.

Stepping close to the entryway of the room, Demeter peeks in. Nothing. Not even the box. A chill runs down her back like a slither. Blood leaches away from her face and hands, her heart beating ever so rapidly. Turning around, she glimpsed the box in the dining room.

Flushed against the wall.

In a reflection of a picture frame, her eyes sink into her head to her horror.

_ That_ shadow.  
Constantly reminding her

Had she become a coward?

"Will I be haunted by a tiny amalgamation of my brain!?" She barks. Chucking the offending picture frame across the hall.

"No. I think not." Leaning over the pile of shattered glass, gasping heavily.

After sweeping up the pile, Demeter runs to her desk, retrieving a black marker. Blacking out any reflections or just covering them with napkins. Slowly, she found herself at enough ease .

For now. She needed this to end.

If only it wasn't raining.

> _Andromeda appears. Waning Moon. _
> 
> _Yes. It seems that the winter furthers my desire for war against this apparition. Today it storms, but, I have a plan. I refuse to burn it, as it is against my environmental principals. I have to take care, hopefully avoiding the attention or notice of the nymphs. Yet, part of me is in opposition, pondering if my behavior is right. I refuse the reluctance I feel. I refuse to believe that the contents are real or meaningful. _
> 
> _Come forth O' Spirit! I banish thee from my waking moments._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *  
25,000₯ = $81.40 (I used a currency converter)


	5. Under the light of the waning moon

Demeter hadn't slept much the following night. She couldn't rest, her mind spun like an out of control wheel. Staring at the ceiling with great strain in her eyes. Bloodshot and anxious. Waiting for the sun to peek through her window. In her mind, she processed the grand plan to evict the nuisance spirit from her mind and home.

She just had to wait.

To go out into the night.

Then the air would cold.

So cold that no one would come out.

No one would see her.

All alone. With a shovel and a dug hole.

Turning to look out out the window, Demeter sat still, silently, keenly. Impatient for the hours in the short day to pass. Her body numb and skin pale. Deep breaths and the clacking of the clocks, kept her company. Her mind too tired and uneasy to consider anything else. There would be no internal objection. She wanted nothing more than to be rid of that dreadful memento wrapped in that gaudy yellow ribbon. Kore's latest letter expressed a sense of ire towards her. Regarding the recent choice of reply as insouciant.

The goddess offended.

When she heard the clock chimed, there was no time to sulk or conjure words to reply. Demeter stood from her place, retrieving her boots and coat. She hadn't even changed clothes. From the shed, a shovel and a sack in hand. Marching back inside, intent to fetch the offending object.

Stepping into the doorway, she froze.

There again, _The shadow._

Standing, opaque and blank-faced.

A sharp shiver ran up her back, urging not to vomit from the sight. Withstanding every urge to scream, she swallowed some courage. Forcing herself an expression devoid of any fear to spite it. 

"NO! I am through. You will be banished!" She stomped her way in.

The box in hand, Demeter rushed out. Passing the outer gate and the shrubs, hoping to hurry before it was too cold or late. Hurrying down the road, the chill sunk into her. The surface of her face numb and the cold made it hard to inhale through her throat. Demeter forced herself not to look back. There was a sense in her mind that she might be followed. Inside, she felt weighed down by with rocks and knots, shakey like a limp branch against the wind. She forced herself to keep going.

After a while, Demeter found herself far enough and a nearby field adequate for this plan. Its soils recently turned, though the dirt might have frozen, but, it wouldn't matter. She trudged her way through the dirt, despite her sore feet and the cold. Further and further in, she picked a spot in the middle. Stabbing into the earth, Demeter dug the sharp blade in. Tossing the dug up frozen, heavy dirt aside, including the rocks and bits of barley stalks. Doing this felt long. The effort to move frozen earth was tremendous and hasty. She dug two feet down. Enough in size to set the box with the sack in the ground. She thought this with each plop of dirt on top.

_ I bury this! Let it be swallowed into the decrepit depths._

_ Like my shattered hopes and inner objections,_

_ My daughter's hand to the man that summed all my ires._

_ Now, THIS._

_ And this I refuse!  
_

_ Rot! Rot! Rot! Decay into the particles of this earth. _

With the final pile of dirt atop the burial of this act. Demeter stomps the grounds. Staring at the imprint with a seething whisper. She breathes in and out, exhaustion and bodily strain apparent._  
_

"_May time silence this voice in my mind._

_ I shall spend my winters here. My loneliness without your dreadful company. _

_ With any luck, you will never resurface with the rain of spring."_

Dragging her shovel behind her. Demeter slowly walked the return to her home. Frost across her face from the tears she cried along the way. Her eyelids struggle to keep open, her wobble with each step. Drained and zapped to do anything other than walk. Then sleep as soon as she crossed the threshold. Above her, the first snowflake fell and in the sky the light of the shrunken, waning moon. A symbol of surrender, to do away with things or purge. Making way for the next phase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🎃🕯️Happy Halloween🕯️🎃


	6. Sunless days and Moonless nights

Demeter sat in her chair, looking out into her spacious study. The window shining a muted pale glow against the dim room. 

Despite each inhalation and exhale in a calm,steady rhythm; the goddess didn't feel anything. Didn't think, could not conjure or summon the drive for any thought. Even sleeping. It was as though when she buried that box, she'd buried a part of her. Wobbling her way to her desk. Her otherwise tidy space now cluttered with the frames of Kore turned around as she flipped through pages of her journal. Smiling a short while with each page. The words on them warm with thoughts; filled frustration, worries, and doubts. How they gave her some drive to ponder. Looking out the window to see the bleak outdoors. How the two were similar. 

Dampening her pen, she summoned the urge to write.

_The skies had been barren with faint light. The hours spent with sunless days and moonless nights, I've long lost count of how many days since._

_ I thought that once the box was gone, I'd be rid of that pesky phantom. Was it perhaps a part of myself I banished?_

_Kore sends me more letters, each l fail to inspire a reply. Dampening the pen, tracing the letters leave me mute._

_ I feel tormented with thoughts I have no urge to scribble down. Had I buried that night every urge to speak? Every lingering opinion? Objections? _

_ Perhaps. Even as I write in this tome, I find myself. _

_ Motionless. _

_The winter leaves me worn and without the urge to persist as I usually do. _ _The cold and quiet keep me company. __As I've been abandoned by all that I care._

_ I pondered.._

_ Should I have opened the box?"_

The book set aside, her pen left to drip and soak onto the spare pages, Demeter stands, leaving her study to just move about. Even small amounts of dust felt stimulating. She felt content spending most of her waking moments in a sense of drifts. Her desire for things swaying wildly from one extreme emotion to lack thereof in the next. Turning off her phone, shutting her curtains, wanting little to no contact. Even her closest friends barred. Desiring to be left in peace. Her chest felt heavy. Sometimes she would cry. 

_ WHY?! Why am I crying?!_

She'd ask herself this over and over. Screaming to the pain that tears. She should feel relieved having had buried that box. No longer did she feel haunted, instead, she is left alone.

_Alone. _

_ Alone. _

_ Alone. _


	7. Sombering Gray of Winter

Persephone sat alone in her office, her manicured nails tapping her cup in thought. Her mind focused on every little thing. The low humming of the UV lights above, the faint clicks of office workers echoing in. The clacks and clicks of the clock on the wall and the water fountain trickling into the basins. She sat waiting. Hoping for business calls to distract her, any paperwork to arrive to be done immedaitely. Already she'd checked her email, exhausting the urge to refresh. There were no meetings or appointments either. Sitting in her chair, Persephone was begging for distraction.

Something, anything! Demanding that the voice of worry inside her head to cease. Weighing her heart into the pits of herself. Biting her lip hard to withhold the urge to cry. But, withstanding every urge to shatter her cup in anger. Standing up, the goddess paced. Her heals against the floor like ice cracks. Persephone fumed as she stared at a photo of her mother. Grabbing the frame to glare and crack the glass thought sheer force.

"Dammit, mother!" Throwing the picture into the bin.

Kicking it before her vines slithered from the shadows to crush it. Turning into her seat to watch, the vines further warp and twist the can before catapulting it out the window Flying for miles before landing somewhere. Scootching her chair back to her desk as the vines retreated. Opening a drawer, Persephone felt inside for the hidden compartment. Retrieving a notebook and a pen from a cup. Her dainty fingers slip through the pages before taking the pen to its tip. There were a few things Persephone shared with her mother.

_I shouldn't be so surprised  
_

_Weeks of no messages, no responses or whispers from friends,_

_Did I honestly think Mama would accept my choices? Even after this long?_

_If anyone asked me fifteen years ago, I would have never thought I'd be here. Truly, I don't think Mama liked change.  
_

_She didn't count on me being contrarian too. I wasn't a barley plant she could plop into the ground and make grain. Refusing to be content in being a trophy daughter, a mascot for her uses and demands. Now years later, her rebuke lives in the form of passive aggression._

_In her attitude and moods, hardly sparing a moment with her sly comments and mutterings at decibels higher than 10. _ _A hint of disappointment and sadness in her tone. I am used to it for the most part, but, this new addition will not understand, feeling at odds amid an ongoing debate they do not deserve to inherit._

I clutch myself with tears, worrying for them.

_Should I make war and not peace?_

_Do I owe this future clinging to the hopes to punish my mother?_

_Or should I opt for hope?_

_I hope that maybe._

_Just maybe,_

_Mama would come to love this new future? _


End file.
